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WHEN A FIST POUNDED on the door a few hours later, I somehow expected it. Only two Jinni I knew behaved like that.
And my father had no reason to knock.
Asher burst in as soon as I turned the lock. “What have you done?” he screamed. His red eyes burned like a hot fire, and his face was flushed.
Though I tried not to react, when he slammed the door behind him, I instinctively stepped back.
When my father got like this, I hid. As long as I was out of sight, he left me alone.
Asher wasn’t going to let me out of his sight.
He grabbed my wrist, twisting painfully. “You used my face!” he shouted. “You knew they’d come after me as soon as they found out—if I had been home, I’d have been caught! You have to fix this!”
Swallowing hard, I tried to pull my arm away, but he only gripped tighter. “I thought you’d get the message,” I tried to snap back at him, but my voice shook. “You can’t control me.”
“No,” Asher growled, yanking me forward and grabbing my other arm, putting pressure on them until I stopped struggling. “Unless you want everyone to know your precious secret, you will fix this. Now!”
Panic caused my skin to flush hot and then icy cold.
An image flashed through my mind, unbidden, of Asher as a little lizard.
Powerless... Tiny...
I acted without thinking.
My arms were already pressed so tightly against him. It only took a small, excruciating twist of my wrist to touch his hand.
When my fingers touched his skin, his eyes widened in understanding.
“No—” he gasped, trying to let go and back away, but now I grabbed him and held on, shifting him as fast as my ability would allow.
In seconds, he shrunk down to just a few fingers tall.
Turned green and leathery.
And grew a tail.
I’d never know how he’d wanted me to fix it his way, but this was mine.
In his new lizard form, he scurried across the floor, trying to escape, but I caught him between my hands, trapping him.
When I picked up his tiny body, he struggled frantically, scratching my hands deep enough to draw blood. I ran to the kitchen. Dumping a glass jar of flour into the sink, I tossed him into the now empty jar and slammed the lid on top.
The lid didn’t have any air holes.
Biting my lip, I tried to think. There was a matching glass lid on the sugar jar. Taking it off, I put my hand on it and attempted to use my Gift. Unlike my clothing, which was essentially a part of me, this object felt completely foreign.
Pressing it into my body, I tried harder, managing to shift the glass just enough that a tiny hole formed beneath my finger. The moment I let go, it disappeared.
This Gift was useless!
Shifting the spare lid again, this time I tried putting a knife in the hole before I let go. Then, once the glass had closed back in around the knife, I yanked until the knife came out. Once again, the hole closed up.
No matter what I tried, the jar resisted my Gift.
The one time I really need it!
Asher had stopped struggling. His lizard form sagged inside the glass jar as he slowly began to run out of air.
“Hold on,” I murmured, touching the glass near his face.
He didn’t respond.
Panicking, I snatched a nearby dish towel. I couldn’t let him die. Grabbing the knife once more, I cut two slices of fabric from the towel. One, I bunched up and propped under the lid, until it held it open just enough to allow air in, but not wide enough for him to get out. The second, I used as a makeshift rope, tying it over the lid and around the jar to hold the lid firmly in place.
It should allow enough air in. I hoped.
As the fresh air seeped in, Asher’s tiny green body twitched.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Replacing the sugar jar back in the cupboard, I flushed the tell-tale flour down the sink and took the jar that now contained Asher to my room.
Setting him on my tiny dresser, I dropped onto the bed and let my head fall into my hands.
The full magnitude of what I’d done hit me.
I’d gone too far.
Sitting up to face Asher again, I found my own reflection staring back at me instead, in the little mirror over the dresser.
I stood unconsciously, stepping closer.
With a wordless scream, I flung my hand out at the mirror, knocking it off the wall with a clumsy swipe. It hit the floor with the sound of splintered glass. I crushed my fists against my eyes, curling in on myself, joining the mirror on the floor.
My breathing was ragged.
Remorse hit me instantly.
That mirror was one of the only things I had left of my mother.
Gently, I lifted the edge, turning it over to see the damage.
The gold frame was loose, and the glass had formed an enormous crack. It fractured out like a spider web with little splinters of glass all around it. Broken beyond repair.
It would never again be what it was.
I hadn’t fixed my situation with Asher at all. If anything, I’d made it unfixable.
No matter what angle I approached it from, there was no coming back from this.
I drew a finger across the sharp glass edges, letting them bite my skin until a tiny drop of blood bloomed on the tip of my finger.
If Asher was returned to his own form, he’d either blackmail me for life or turn me in to the Jinni Guard. They’d no doubt throw me in the castle dungeon to await a Severance.
If he remained a lizard, however, I had no doubt they’d come looking for him. They’d discover what I’d done, and I’d still face the dungeon, and the subsequent Severance.
This was exactly why the Unbreakable Laws had been created.
Somehow, I’d broken all of them in just a few hours. I’d deceived. Stolen. And now harmed.
When I moved to sit on the bed once more, cradling the small, broken mirror in my hand, Asher’s stare pierced me. Somehow it conveyed fury and disgust, even in his lizard form.
I stood just long enough to set the ruined mirror in front of the jar, leaning it against the glass and blocking Asher from view.
Turning off the light, I crawled into bed and closed my eyes. I’d figure out what to do with him—and myself—in the morning.
Long after my father stumbled home late that night, I still lay wide awake. My mind held onto the problem relentlessly, trying to untie it, like an impossible knot.
Very few ideas came to me.
Those that did were too dark to consider.
I didn’t know what to do or who to ask. I couldn’t trust anyone.
By morning, I’d barely slept.
I didn’t get out of bed.
The front door slammed shut, signaling my father leaving for work. But I could only manage to briefly check that Asher was still breathing, before I curled up in bed once more.
My thin curtain allowed a square of sunlight on the opposite wall. I stared at it all morning as it crept across my room.
Afternoon passed even more slowly.
A knock on the front door made me frown. Was I supposed to be somewhere? I quickly ran a brush through my hair and straightened the clothes I hadn’t bothered to change out of yesterday. With a swift glance in the fractured mirror that made me cringe, I strode into the main room and opened the door.
I froze. No. It’s too soon. How do they know what I did?
A Jinni Guard with icy blue eyes and full body armor—designed for actual battle, not just as a fashion statement like Asher’s and Simon’s—stood on the other side. “Is the head of the household available?”
I managed to shake my head and cleared my throat. “I can pass on a message if you’d like?”
He ignored my answer. “Are you one of the companions of Asher, son of Methuselah, son of Obed?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. Is he here for me? Or for Asher? I pictured him finding the glass jar and piecing it together... Either way, this couldn’t end well.
The members of the Jinni Guard were by far the most Gifted in all of Jinn. Rumor had it that some of them had the rare Gift of conviction: the ability to spot the difference between a lie and the truth. Every word I uttered had to be chosen carefully. “Is he... okay?”
“He has been reported missing and is wanted for some possible unlawful behavior. We are speaking with friends and family to ascertain his whereabouts.”
Nodding slowly, I put a hand to my heart. Body language wasn’t usually as decipherable by a Gift as words. I couldn’t say, I hope you find him, or, I’ll keep an eye out for him, because both of those would be lies. “Let me know when you find him?” I asked instead, squinting my eyes as if anxious—which wasn’t hard since it was exactly how I felt.
The guard gave a sharp bow, eyes never leaving my face. “My name is Eliezer, son of Japeth, son of Hezekiah. If you come across any new information, come to the castle and ask for me immediately. I’ll be sure to follow up if I have further questions.”
Not at all what I’d asked.
As he turned away and strode down the hall, conversation apparently over, I slid the door shut with a soft click. I couldn’t determine if he was onto me or simply following protocol.
My stomach growled loudly.
Now that he’d pulled me out of my stupor, I realized I was starving.
All we had in the apartment was some stale bread and cheese. Scraping the mold off, I ate all of it. My father didn’t always eat at home, but if he wanted to tonight... I decided to go pick up some fresh bread and supplies. Just in case.
The short trip to the emporium gave me something to do. More importantly, it gave me a chance to clear my head and get some distance from Asher, whose presence I could feel everywhere in our little apartment.
When I came back, I had yet to come up with a plan, but I could at least talk to Asher and explain myself, even if he couldn’t talk back. He might be in a better mindset today. There might still be a way out of this.
I finished putting the food away right as someone knocked on the door again. The guard was back already? Was that a bad sign or a good one?
Wiping my suddenly sweaty hands on my dress, I cleared my throat and swung the door open. I took a startled step back at the glowering boy in front of me. “Simon?” My heart did an erratic dance. “What are you doing here?”
He pushed past, eyes searching the small room and its few hiding places. “Is Asher here?” he asked, turning to face me. His eyes narrowed, and he kept his distance. Wary. “He was supposed to meet me, but he didn’t show. Last I heard, he was with you.”
I widened my eyes, hoping the surprise seemed authentic, and shrugged. “I haven’t seen him. What’s going on?” Simon didn’t have any truth-seeking Gifts, so I didn’t hesitate to lie to him.
It turned out that was a mistake.
“A member of the guard was just at my place,” he said in a low, dangerous tone. “Eliezer, son of Japeth, son of... I forget. It doesn’t matter. He told me that he came here first. Said he talked to you.”
“I swear, I don’t know where Asher is.” I spread my hands wide. “He’s clearly not here. You can see for yourself.”
I hoped he wouldn’t take me up on it, even as I knew I couldn’t be so lucky.
“I’ll do that,” Simon snapped, stalking around the room, leaving a mess in his wake, looking under my father’s bed and even going so far as to open a small cupboard beside it that Asher couldn’t possibly fit into. At least, not in the size that Simon was looking for...
He stormed over to the kitchen, opening all of the cupboards there as well, letting the doors swing wildly behind him.
Then, he strode toward my room.
Even before he pushed open the door, I knew what I had to do.
This time, I didn’t hesitate.
By the time his eyes landed on the jar behind the mirror, where Asher was scratching at the glass walls in warning, my hand was on Simon’s back, and he was shrinking.
Becoming a lizard too.
Darker green this time, so I could tell them apart.
He didn’t have a chance to scream. Not even to say a single word.
Pouncing on his tiny lizard form before he could run, I moved the mirror out of my way, leaning it against the wall instead, and dropped Simon in beside Asher in the little glass jar.
Just like Asher had, he clawed the sides, desperately trying to escape, while his friend looked on in resignation.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, struggling not to cry—not just for them, but also for myself and my own stupidity getting into this mess. “I swear to you, this isn’t what I wanted.”
I sank onto the bed, my gaze swinging between them and my reflection in the broken mirror, where the girl inside looked ready to cry again.
“You have to believe me, I hate every part of this. I wish there was something else I could do...” I wrapped my arms protectively around myself, shaking my head at the way they looked at me. I could almost hear them: You could turn us back.
“No,” I replied, as if they’d actually spoken. Standing to reach for the mirror, I placed it face down on the dresser, where I could no longer see my reflection. “I can’t.”
I turned away from the jar and its occupants, heading for the kitchen to avoid their judgment as well. Over my shoulder, before I closed the door, I added, “I can’t let you turn me in.” My voice cracked. “And I can’t trust you not to. There’s no other way.”